


Abandon

by Zinnith



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Aliens Make Them Do It, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Drugged Sex, Drugs, M/M, Marathon Sex, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-14
Updated: 2010-05-14
Packaged: 2017-10-09 10:50:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zinnith/pseuds/Zinnith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>"If you come inside now, I won't be able to help myself."</i></p><p>Rodney on alien Viagra.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Abandon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [keefaq (erda)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/erda/gifts).



> For keefaq who bought me for fics4books. She wanted: _John/Rodney, either one overcome with lust due to alien influence or whatever, and the other one helping them out (not that they mind that much)._
> 
> Many thanks to super-beta the_cephalopod, who holds claim of the title for all eternity!

"I think the only thing to do is to wait for it to wear off," Keller says, blushing bright red.

Rodney scowls, the colour of his face matching the doctor's. "Thank you so much for your expert opinion," he snarls. "That's exactly what I told you, oh, _two hours_ ago when we first came through the 'gate, but you just couldn't find it in your sadistic little heart to spare me what might possibly be the most humiliating experience of my _life_."

"It hasn't exactly been enjoyable for me either," Keller snaps in irritation, and then quickly raises a hand to her mouth. "Sorry," she squeaks and disappears. John makes a mental note to arrange for some really good chocolate to be left in her office. Dealing with a cranky Rodney McKay hopped up on alien Viagra shouldn't be in anyone's job description.

Rodney is the very picture of misery, sitting uncomfortably hunched over on the examination table. He leans forward and buries his head in his hands. "This is all your fault," he groans, lifting his head sufficiently to send a poisonous glare in John's direction. "I'm going to hold it against you for the rest of your life."

"How can it be my fault?" John asks in bewilderment. He's pretty sure he didn't do anything to bring about this incident. He can't help it that the village elder's daughter wanted a strong child with broad shoulders and decided that Rodney would be a suitable father.

Rodney gingerly climbs down from the table and places his PDA strategically in front of his crotch. "Let me get back to you on that," he says. "In the meantime…"

John will never know what Rodney was going to say because that's when Keller comes back and hastily shoves a bottle of lubricant at Rodney. "To prevent…um… chafing," she says. "Come back if there's no change in the next twelve hours."

"Wonderful," Rodney mutters. "Just for the record, I hate you all." He walks out of the infirmary with a very stiff gait, glowering at anyone who dares look at him.

John decides to cancel the chocolate and get Keller a bottle of really good booze instead. He thanks the doc and hurries after Rodney.

For a guy in Rodney's condition, he can sure walk fast. He's almost reached his quarters by the time John catches up with him.

"What?" Rodney barks, turning around. He looks tired and frustrated, almost _twitchy_ – like his whole body is itching.

John leans against the wall. "So, you want me to help out with that?" he drawls, gesturing towards Rodney's groin and the telling bulge there.

Rodney stops with his hand on the door, staring at John with hunger burning in his eyes. Then he shakes his head. "I'll be perfectly fine on my own, thank you," he says and opens the door.

John raises a quizzical eyebrow. "Why? It's not like we haven't done it before?" Like, pretty much every day for the past four months.

Rodney looks like he's hesitating and for a moment, John is sure that he'll change his mind. Then Rodney shakes his head with a feverishly earnest look in his eyes. "If you come inside now, I won't be able to help myself," he says. "I'll just bend you over the desk and fuck you raw and that's…not… oh my god…"

The last comes out as a small whimper and, before John even has time to react to the suggestion, Rodney has launched himself into his room and locked the door behind him.

Technically, John could just ask Atlantis to open the door for him, but Rodney apparently wants some privacy. Maybe if he gets to take the edge off, he'll be more receptive to John's proposal.

So John leaves Rodney to his little problem and heads for his own room instead. He has a plan.

~ * ~

Rodney McKay approaches sex like he does everything – methodically and with expert efficiency. He spends hours learning every inch of John's body. He's always so gentle, so careful, like John is a priceless piece of Ancient tech that could break if Rodney were to handle him too roughly.

Thing is, John doesn't mind it a little rough from time to time. It's not that he doesn't appreciate the way Rodney seems to worship his body, it's just that sometimes he doesn't want careful and reverent. Sometimes he wants to be held down and _taken_; for Rodney to just use him for his own pleasure.

Perhaps he should feel a bit bad for what he's about to do – taking advantage of Rodney's situation like this. But John has a feeling that if he doesn't take this chance, he'll have nothing but, admittedly very good, vanilla sex for the rest of his life. It's nice of course – Rodney has clever fingers and an even more clever mouth, but he always has to be in _control_, he always takes far more interest in John's pleasure than his own. Just once, John would like to see Rodney out of his mind with lust, helpless to do anything but act on his desires.

John lies down on the bed, shoves his pants and boxers down and reaches for the lube. Rodney's last words echo through his mind. _If you come inside now I won't be able to help myself. I'll bend you over the desk and fuck you raw._ The image alone is enough to make him hard. He slicks up a couple of fingers and reaches back, circling his own entrance. With a little luck, it'll be Rodney there soon, plunging in, taking what he needs.

The thought makes John moan out loud. He closes his eyes, imagining what it'll be like.

He's still wearing his radio, and as he uses the tips of his fingers to breach his own body, he keys it on and calls Rodney on a private channel.

"Yes, what?" comes Rodney's breathless voice on the other end of the line. "Unless this is an emergency I…"

"Rodney," John says huskily into the mouthpiece as he gives himself a long slow stroke. "What's up?"

Rodney sighs. "Me," he says. "Painfully so. Was there anything special you wanted or were you just calling to gloat?"

John runs a hand over his chest, under the shirt, and pinches his own nipples. "How are you doing?" he asks.

There's a grunt and the sound of more heavy breathing. "How do you _think_ I'm doing?" Rodney growls. "I'm…ah… damn horny alien _bitch_, I'm going to have blisters in some very uncomfortable places tomorrow, that's how I'm doing. Now leave me alone and don't call again unless the city's in danger of blowing up within the next fifteen minutes. On second thought, don't call me, call Zelenka."

"Wanna know what I'm doing?" John interrupts. He raises his hips from the bed so he can reach better, but the angle's all wrong and his fingers are slimmer than Rodney's. It's not the same.

Rodney's breath is coming faster and faster and there's the unmistakable sound of a slick palm against skin. "Figuring out how to achieve world peace? Coming up with a cure for the common cold? Communing with your… oh, god… your stupid… _hair_?"

"I'm touching myself and thinking about you," John says.

There's a sharp hitch in Rodney's breath and then he's groaning, "Oh… you… you're, I…oh my god!" and then all John can hear is the sounds of Rodney coming and it's almost enough to send him over the edge as well.

"You liked that, didn't you?" John asks with a smirk, squeezing his cock hard to keep from coming.

"You are an evil evil man," Rodney pants. "And I still blame you."

"Want me to come over?" John says, and then, before Rodney has time to protest, "No, wait. I'm coming over whether you want me to or not. So, you know, if you really don't want me there, just keep the door locked or something."

"I hate you so much," Rodney moans before he breaks the connection. John stands and coaxes himself back into his pants. He has a feeling he won't find Rodney's door locked this time.

~ * ~

John has barely entered Rodney's room before he finds himself pressed up against a wall with Rodney's tongue halfway down his throat. It's rough, sloppy and messy, and so hot that John is embarrassingly close to coming in his pants. When he pulls away, he can see that Rodney's eyes are fully dilated, black with just a thin circle of blue, and so full of want that John can't help himself. He turns Rodney around so he's the one with his back to the wall and then goes down to his knees, easing Rodney's sweatpants down. He's not wearing any underwear and his cock is rock hard and dark with blood. John leans forward and licks the head and the clear drop of fluid there and Rodney thrusts forward, forcing his way into John's mouth even as he pants, "Sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to…"

John sits back and looks up at Rodney, who looks utterly debauched, wide-eyed with tiny drops of sweat forming on his brow. "It's okay," John says, licking his lips. "You can fuck my mouth if you want."

Rodney makes a low guttural sound deep down in his throat and thrusts forward again. John opens his mouth wide, taking Rodney in, all of him. Rodney's hands are in John's hair, gripping so hard it almost hurts, but it's so very good. He can feel Rodney slide over his tongue and hit the back of his throat. John has to time his breathing with Rodney's thrusts and he's so turned on that he's a little afraid he'll come right here and now, without as much as a touch on him.

But Rodney comes first, bangs the back of his head against the wall and lets out a strangled scream as John's mouth is flooded with hot and salt. He swallows as much as he can, but some of it trickles down his chin. Rodney's knees buckle and he slides down the wall. John catches him and eases him down onto the floor.

"You're… that was…" Rodney stutters and John has to smile. He's rendered Rodney speechless.

"Were you serious about fucking me over the desk?" he has to ask, just to see Rodney's eyes go unfocused and glaze over again. His cock is still fully erect and weeping and John has to bend down and lick it clean. That draws another deep groan from Rodney and before John knows it, he's pinned down on the floor with Rodney heavy and hot on top of him and Rodney's tongue forcing its way into his mouth.

John's still wearing his clothes and Rodney's still in his t-shirt – there's far too much fabric between them and John just wants it gone so he can feel Rodney's bare skin against his own. Rodney is obviously of the same opinion because he pulls his threadbare _I'm with genius_ t-shirt off and then starts tugging at John's clothes with such frenzy that he rips off several buttons in the process.

"I have to… damn, it's over by the bed…" Rodney pants and John looks up to see the bottle of lube Keller provided on Rodney's bedside table. Rodney sits back on his heels, cock bobbing heavily between his legs, and John uses the opportunity to unbutton his fly and wriggle out of his pants.

"We don't need it," he says with a wicked smile. "I'm ready."

Rodney's eyes go very wide and he utters some inarticulate sound that John finds incredibly hot. He spreads his legs and reaches down to hold himself open for Rodney, who holds out a shaky hand to feel the slick between his cheeks and then press his thumb inside. John can't help making some noises of his own; Rodney's fingers are _so_ much better than John's. Then Rodney hoists John's legs over his shoulders, lines himself up against John's hole and slides inside and, fuck yeah, _this_ is what he wanted, to feel Rodney hard and thick inside, to feel himself stretched open to accommodate Rodney's fat cock.

For a fraction of a moment they're both perfectly still and then Rodney starts to move, sets a pace so hard that John has to twist his hands into the rug so he won't slide away from Rodney's thrusts.

He hasn't been pounded this good for _years_, and never by someone who mattered – never by someone who will still be here in the morning, and that's what brings him over, makes the orgasm pool deep in his belly. When the first stripes of semen hits his chest, John whites out, his whole world narrowing to only the pleasurepainpleasure and that place where his body is connected to Rodney's.

John comes back with Rodney's breath hot against his throat and Rodney's mouth nipping and biting at the sensitive skin there. He's going to have to wear a high collared shirt until the marks fade, but it doesn't matter because Rodney is _gone_, completely out of his mind. His hips have lost their rhythm and he's slamming into John's ass with no restraint, just taking his pleasure, until he finally freezes in place and grips John's thighs so hard that there's going to be bruises. John feels the pulse of warm wetness deep inside, and then Rodney collapses over him, eyes rolled up inside his head, panting like he's just run a marathon.

John pets Rodney's sweat-drenched hair and waits for him to return to his senses. Rodney is a heavy comfortable weight on top of him, still shuddering with the aftershocks.

A little while later, Rodney groans and moves a little, tucks his face into John's neck. John feels incredibly proud of himself. He's managed to reduce the normally expressive Rodney McKay to mere grunts and whimpers.

John shifts slightly, reveling in the feeling of Rodney inside him. "You're still hard," he observes, clenching down around Rodney's dick.

Rodney makes an indescribable little sound into his shoulder, halfway between a sob and a moan. "I know. It won't go down. I've tried…"

John's own cock makes a valiant attempt at an early come back. "That is so hot. You can fuck me all night; just fill me up over and over until I'm wet and dripping with your come." He doesn't know where the words come from; he's usually not the one to talk dirty, but Rodney emits a strange little whine and starts moving inside him again.

John wraps his legs around Rodney's waist and his arms around Rodney's neck and prepares himself for one hell of a ride.

~ * ~

It's later. Rodney's sheets are probably unsalvageable and John is both pleasantly sore and pretty sure he won't be able to sit down for a week. He can't bring himself to care.

Rodney ran out of energy a little while ago and is now lying on his back, completely exhausted. He's still hard, but far too sensitive for anything other than the lightest touch of John's fingers on his dick.

"Wow," he breathes, eyelids flickering. "That was… mmmhm."

John smiles and gently presses his thumb against that spot just under the head of Rodney's cock. "Good?" he asks.

"Good," Rodney slurs. "Ver' good. You?"

"Better than," John answers. He shifts to lie on his side and winces a little at the burn in his ass. He feels thoroughly fucked and very content.

"Y' okay? I di'n't hurt you?" There's a hint of concern in Rodney's voice so John leans in to kiss him, slow and sweet.

"I'm fine," he assures Rodney. "I liked it. I can take it, you know. You won't break me."

"Hmm." Rodney's hand flops to the side, skims John's collarbone and ribs before coming to rest on his come-soaked stomach. "I know. Y're just so…" He trails off.

"McKay, if you call me 'pretty' I'm going to kill you."

Rodney shakes his head and forces his eyes open to lay his bright blue gaze on John. "Beautiful. I was goin' t' say beautiful."

John kisses him again. He can live with being beautiful in Rodney's eyes.

~ fin ~


End file.
